


Swords and Awkward Princes

by funkinperf



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, Good vs Evil, Hero!Dean, Love, M/M, Medieval, Multi, Possible Character Death, Possible smut, Quests, prince!castiel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-08 06:13:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4293822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/funkinperf/pseuds/funkinperf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone in Nirvania has heard of the Howling Sword, a descendant of the infamous Robin Hood. He too steals from the rich and gives to the poor, but he also has a bit of a bad streak. He and his accomplice, the Charging Dagger, have been outwitting the King's Angels for years. That is until one unfortunate encounter leaves him stuck in the grasp of the crown. Misfortune seems to follow the poor anti-hero as he is forced to face facts that he had been hiding from for years.The Howling Sword must make many decisions that may leave his identity- and his life, compromised.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swords and Awkward Princes

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by my love for awesome medieval stories. What's sexier than a guy in tights? Am I right people?

"Stop right there! Thief!" The burly knight called as the infamous Howling Sword took off with a sack of the king's jewels. The Howling Sword chuckled to himself. They should know better by now. If they didn't catch him the past billion times, what would make this time any different. But still, he had to keep up appearances so he turned to peer over his shoulder and shouted, "You will never take me alive!" Which received several laughs from his pursuers. Every time the King's Angels, or as he liked to call them the King's Assbutts, tried to catch him they would assume it was impossible for him to escape their grasps once again, but time and time again he would evade them at the last second. Many would say that he was a sorcerer, that it was unimaginable how else he could possibly get away. With a final look back at the Assbutts he gave the nearly imperceptible signal to his accomplice waiting in the sidelines.   
A sheet that was previously hanging high above the streets of Nirvania started its descent to the ground where the unknowing knights were about to lose their prey. The Howling Sword looked back to be sure that all of the knights were stuck under his trap, which, after a quick count he concluded, they were, and took off to his hideout. The lair of the Howling Sword was an abode that was typical of a peasant in the early 1300s. The outside was a mixture of rock, lumber, and some sort of thatch made by his previous ancestors. The roof surpassed the expectations of conventional rooftops, but one would not be able to tell just by looking at it. On the outside it sported characteristics of all the others, but underneath it was a complexly built structure. It had multiple layers of lumber to keep the rain out and had space in it to hide from a number of enemies the Howling Sword had made over the years.   
The Howling Sword was not exactly a bad guy, but you couldn't really say he was a good guy either. Much like his ancestor, Robin Hood, he was known to steal from the rich and give to the poor, but he could also be seen leaving a tavern totally slammed with a wench on his arm, or getting into fistfights with random people who looked at him the wrong way. But he tried, he really did, to be a good person, but sometimes bad came as easily to him as good did. Most of the people of Nirvania saw the Howling Sword as a good guy. He was the one who helped those in need, even if he had some less than desirable qualities.   
As he entered what was known to most as The Invisible Palace he chuckled to himself as he saw that the tripwire that ran from his home to the alternative path his accomplice always led the Assbutts on had been set off, proving that he had once again outwitted the malevolent twelve, King Charles' most fearsome knights. The Malevolent twelve consisted of Gabriel, Zachariah, Balthazar, Gadreel, Metatron, Lucifer, Michael, Raphael, Samandriel and, although unpopular with some of the higher ranked officials, Anna, Hannah, and Naomi. The Howling Sword had to admit they were a good bunch of knights, who were loyal to the crown. They tried their best, but they were not even close to being able to catch him.   
"Dean!" The accomplice shouted with much enthusiasm, "We got 'em again!" Only a few people were allowed to know the Howling Hand's real name, among them his little brother, Sam. Sam had been helping Dean with his many endeavors ever since he reached his thirteenth year. The two worked together to maintain the reputation Dean had created. Although Dean would never admit it to Sam, his help was a big reason why the Howling Hand had not been captured once in all his twenty years.   
"What do we got today? Did we get that evil King Chuck good?" Sam questioned Dean.   
The legendary man put on a faux frown and looked to his younger brother. The enthusiasm leaked off his face. Then Dean yelled, "Of course we did, Sammy. No one can stop the legendary Howling Sword and his unknown accomplice the Charging Dagger." This statement put a grin back onto Sam's face. Sam always loved it when Dean called him the Charging Dagger, which was a name Sam had chosen when he first began helping Dean.  
"They'll call me the Charging Dagger," he had said, "I may be smaller than you, but I am still capable of inflicting a huge blow." Dean remembered ruffling the young boys hair and agreeing that the Charging Dagger was a brilliant name for him. He felt bad having to explain to Sam that most people would not know about him. Although that had put a small damper on his mood, Dean's reasoning eventually convinced him it was better to be an invisible side kick.   
The Howling Sword dumped the sack of jewels onto the table where Sam could look at them. His eyes looked up at his older brother with a question. Would it be enough?   
Dean went to the chest that contained his everyday clothes. He always had to switch from his Howling Sword outfit and normal clothes because he still had not been identified as the Howling Sword. He could still go about his days as normal, as well as be an anti-hero when the time arose. He went to the doorpost and grabbed his deep blue knapsack and put the bag of jewels into it. He grabbed Sam and headed out the door.   
The town square was only a short walk from the Invisible Palace, so Sam and Dean had quickly arrived at their destination. The town merchant went by the name Robert, but most people called him Bobby. Bobby sold your average everyday stuff, spices, rugs, and provisions.   
For a select few Bobby also sold stuff that was forbidden in Nirvania such as contraband weaponry and illegally obtained goods. Dean was one of those select few, he knew he could trust Bobby to get a pretty penny for his stolen jewels. Bobby was also like the father the boys had never had, and knew that they were the dynamic duo that had been pestering King Charles for years. When their father John, had abandoned them when Sam was only two Bobby took them in and raised them as his own.   
"Hey you idjits," Bobby called to them, "What do you got for me today?" Dean dropped the purse filled with the stolen goods on Bobby's counter.  
"We should probably go to the back for this one, Bobby. You know us." Dean said with a grin on his face.   
"Come on back." Bobby led them to the back of his shop where darker matters were dealt with. He spread the jewels that Dean had brought with him and studied each one carefully. He looked to Dean who was nervously biting his lip, cautiously hopeful that he had obtained enough lumps.   
"Well boys..." Bobby paused because he loved to be dramatic about everything, "The best I can give ya for these is 1500 lumps."  
Dean let out a sigh of relief, it would be enough. "Thanks so much, Bobby. We really have to go, but we may come back later to visit."   
"Bye, Bobby, thanks for everything," Sam told the wise merchant. Bobby grunted and waved goodbye to the boys.   
Sam and Dean knew they had to be quick if they were going to get to the Widow Ellen's farmhouse before Metatron came to collect. Metatron was by far the worst of the Malevolent Twelve. He could be seen harassing whoever was close to him, even his fellow knights. Most knights are known for their chivalry, but Metatron showed that not all knights fit the mold. Once, he even had to go on trial for sneaking into a cell in the dungeon and taking advantage of one of the prisoners. Much to the public's dismay King Charles ruled that there was not enough proof that such events had taken place.   
The Widow Ellen was one of the sweetest women Dean and Sam had ever met. When her husband, William died of mysterious circumstances she fell behind in her quarterly payment for their farmhouse. The farmhouse not only provided them shelter, but also was their only source of income. The girls, Ellen and Jo, would keep a farm, raise livestock and other such agricultural needs. This year they were behind on the harvest because of William's death. Dean and Sam promised they would get the money to them on time.   
When they rose to the peak of the hill just across from the farmhouse the boys let out a startled gasp. The royal chariot was waiting outside the little cottage. The boys started to run toward the home, screaming and yelling for Ellen, for Jo, for anyone, just trying to figure out what was happening. Why was the royal chariot outside of their house!?   
The boys pushed their way into the house, practically breaking down the door. Sam tripped over his own gigantic feet and knocked into a very living thing. Much to both the boys shock and dismay it was the Crown Prince of Nirvania, Castiel. Dean quickly grabbed Sam to his feet and pulled him to his knees. Both the boys knelt over and bowed to Castiel. Dean looked up and saw the Prince blushing.   
"Uh, you guys... Can, uhm, stand up." Castiel told the brothers.   
"Stop being nice to the peasants, Castiel. Assert yourself. How can you expect to be a leader some day if you can't even yell at some stupid peasant boy who knocked into you? Your father will be hearing about this! This boy should be thrown into the dungeon! In fact he will be, boy, you are coming with us for putting your filthy paws on the Crown Prince. The nerve of you!" Metatron spewed. He grabbed Sam by the arm and led him toward the door he had very recently entered through. Dean gave him the signal that he would fix it, and the worry left from Sam's face.   
"Your highness," Dean started, " I'd really appreciate it if you would be as kind to let my brother go. He did not intend to rumple your royal feathers. We were not aware that you would be here. We just wanted to give Ellen her money before... Well before you came. She sold most of her possessions and we just didn't want her to lose the house because we weren't fast enough. See here it is..." Dean handed Castiel the bag of Lumps. "Please sir, don't take her farm, it's all she has..." he trailed off.   
"We're not taking her farm, we uh, we came to make a plan that would work for her, but since she has the money now we no longer have to do that. Unfortunately, we have to take your brother in. I'm really sorry..." Castiel looked uncomfortable.   
"No! You can't take him he's only sixteen. He can't go into the dungeons. Take me instead! Please... please."   
Castiel seemed to consider it. "Metatron! Get in here and bring the boy," Castiel yelled to his knight. Metatron appeared in the doorway, a wicked grin on his face. "We're taking this boys brother in his stead. It will teach him more of a lesson. Imagine the boy trying to live without his precious caretaker." Castiel snickered. Metatron let out a triumphant laugh as he took Dean by the wrists and began to bring him out to the carriage. Dean silently pleaded with Sam to be quiet. Sam had evidently gotten the message.   
Metatron shoved Dean into the wheeled cage at the end. Apparently the royal envoy couldn't travel without fear of the enemies that lurked in Nirvania. He looked into the grimy face of Metatron and saw pure evil. Metatron tossed one last smug look at Dean before he rejoined Castiel in Ellen's house.   
A few short moments later Sam came over. "Dean, I'm so sorry. I really didn't mean to run into him. I really di..."  
"It's okay, Sammy. It's not like I'll be in the dungeon long. As long as your safe that's all that matters. After we leave I want you to go stay with Bobby until I get back. That's where I'll check for you. Okay, Sam?" Sam nodded his head and left to make room for the convoy to get through.   
As they moved farther away Dean kept his eyes on the nearly imperceptible dot that was Sam. He prayed to the Gods to keep him safe for however long he would be holed up in a cell. He chuckled to himself, of course Sam's clumsiness would get them into big trouble. Sam was fine when they were on missions, but otherwise he had the grace of a moose. He peered one last time at where Sam still stood as the group passed over a hill, making it impossible for him to see his beloved younger brother any longer.   
Odd as it were, the band was led by Gabriel. Gabriel had a reputation, which sounds really bad, but really, Gabriel was a stand up guy. Not only was he a fearsome warrior, but he also was renowned among the people. One could often find him in the streets playing games with the children or playing a prank on some unsuspecting victim.   
The rear consisted of Metatron's right hand girl, Naomi. Originally the two were mortal enemies, but they turned their severe hatred into love. It was rumored among the kingdom that the two would stay out for late night fondues. Oh, the gossip of the town criers. It was a pity Dean would be missing the morning ramblings of the awkwardly clad Donna.   
Before Dean knew it they had made it to the castle. One of the knights yanked him out of his temporary cage and forcefully walked him to the Great Hall. Contrary to popular belief the Great Hall wasn't actually that great. The one thing it had going for it was a gorgeous chandelier that cast a beautiful glow over the otherwise dreary room. Dean cast a glance at the throne, where Nirvania's fearless leader sat. His glance was met with one of pure malice. This guy didn't even know what Dean had done, he was already guilty in his eyes. Dean tried to glance around but his captor kept a firm grip on him.   
Metatron made his way up to have a private discussion with the King, after some not so quiet whispering he found his way back to the convoy. Dean was so busy watching Metatron he hadn't even noticed Castiel make his way over to the smaller throne to his father's right. He wondered if Castiel had any power over what the ruling was. Dean figured Castiel would be much more lenient with him than Chuck would be.   
"Em," King Charles looked around the room at all the knights and the unlucky prisoner, "So, you think you can just run around knocking Crown Princes down? Who do you think..."   
"Father..." Castiel's weak voice barely reached Dean's ears "... It wasn't him. It was his brother. We agreed to take this boy in place of the younger because it would punish the little guy more if we left him out on his own."  
Chuck's laugh filled the castle. "Ah, there is hope for you yet my boy. You become more and more like me after each passing day. You have filled me with much glee on this day. We shall have a magnificent feast!" Dean could've sworn he saw Castiel grimace when the King compared himself to his son. He also felt relief wash over him. Perhaps the King was in such a good mood he would let Dean go.   
Before Dean even had the chance to dream about immediate freedom Metatron's snake-like voice rang from the ranks. "But sire, you have not punished the prisoner. We cannot simply let him off the hook. He knocked over the Crown Prince!"   
"Ah, yes, of course, of course," Chuck paused, studying Dean for a moment before reaching his decision, "Dean Sonofjohn, I hereby sentence you to three days in the dungeon for your crimes against the crown. Samandriel, take him away."  
"Yes, Sire." Samandriel answered.  
Dean felt a pair of dainty, yet firm hands grab his wrist and lead him away to his temporary home, a small cell that smelled of rat urine. Honestly, he didn't really mind it. He had slept in worse places before. His greatest concern was Sam. He had no way of knowing if Sam had made it to Bobby's or not. If he hadn't Dean had no idea what he would do. A world without Sam would be a world he wouldn't want to live in.   
He couldn't let his restless mind make him think the worst. Sam was probably fine. He's a smart kid and it wasn't like he could knock Castiel down again. The flowery Prince was probably curled up in his bed. Dean noticed the knight Samandriel still stood outside his cell.   
Dean studied the knight. He was obviously younger than Dean. Samandriel was one of the newest knights. Many of the other knights abused him bu giving him the most heinous tasks to complete because he wanted so badly to prove himself. There was one tale which told of Samandriel undergoing hours of torture because he was caught in another kingdom's territory under Metatron's orders.   
"Hey," Dean said to the young sentry," I know you guys aren't really supposed to talk to prisoners, but I don't need you to talk. I just need you to listen. You were there, you saw what happened. This isn't something worth punishment, it was just an accident." Samandriel fidgeted, obviously uncomfortable, perhaps on the verge of calling for help. "But here's the thing, I don't mind being locked up in this cell. That isn't my problem. My brother... He's all I've got, a-and I don't know if he made it to somewhere safe. I would just really appreciate it if you would stop by Bobby the Merchant's and ask if Sam's there and if he's okay. If he questions you just tell him bazinga. I know it sounds like nonsense to you but... I just don't know what else to do."   
Samandriel didn't make any kind of sign to Dean. There wasn't even any sign that he had even spoken to the silent knight. Perhaps he would go though. Without a no there is still a possibility for a yes. Three hours later Samandriel was relieved by Michael and Dean felt himself fall into a dreamless sleep.


End file.
